Potter
by sleepy-western
Summary: Following the lives of the three male Potters. James decides to form the New Marauders while trying unsuccessfully to stay out of trouble, Al finds out a secret that he wasn't supposed to know, leaked by none other than Scorpius Malfoy. Harry: read on!
1. Scorpius' Secret

**Chapter One: Scorpius' Secret**

The train gained speed, moving faster and faster, until it had left the station completely. London flashed past the windows, and Al and Rose were left standing in an empty compartment, neither knowing what to say.

Al felt a surge of excitement in his throat- this was it, they were finally off. The place that he had dreamed of for as long as he could remember...he would be a part of it. He looked quickly at Rose to see if she felt the same way, but she was gazing out of the window.

"Rose?" Al said tentatively. She jumped at the sound of his voice. "Are- are you OK?"

"What? Oh, yes, fine." And she resumed her staring contest with the glass pane. Something in her tone made Al suspect a problem, but he disregarded it and sat down.

He caught sight of his reflection, and stuck his tongue out at it. Pale, thin-faced, green-eyed, it was a family joke that, upon meeting Al, everyone instantly said,

"He looks just like his father." And it was true- even his black hair stuck up untidily at the back, the same way Harry's did. The only differences were the absence of the glasses and the lightning-bolt scar.

The scar...Al, James and Lily had asked their father many, many times about it, but he had never given them a straight answer.

"I got it when I was a baby...when my parents died," was all he ever said. Sometimes Al nopticed his mother give Harry a piercing look whenever he said this, but James didn't seem to think it meant anything.

Al glanced at Rose again. She had sat opposite him, but was twisting her hands in her lap and was muttering under her breath. Al had never seen her so agitated. But only fifteen minutes ago she had seemed really happy. He opened his mouth to ask what the problem was, when the compartment door slid smoothly open.

Scorpius Malfoy leaned against the door-frame. He had already changed into his Hogwarts uniform, and his white-blond hair contrasted strongly with the black of his robes. His eyes roved over Rose, who flushed. A small smirk crossed his pale face, and his gaze travelled back to Al.

"You're the Potter boy," he said. It was not a question. Normally, Al would have pointed out that, technically, there were two Potter boys, and that he preferred the use of his firstname anyway, but something about the newcomer told him to remain silent.

Malfoy's eyes snapped back to Rose. "And you," he continued, "you're Ron Weasley's daughter." Rose went even pinker.

"And what if I am?" she said, eyeing Malfoy with great dislike. He ignored her and spoke to Al, but did not remove his gaze from Rose.

"I suppose you're already used to the fame, are you?" Al still said nothing, so Malfoy carried on. "But, you know, it'll be ten times worse at Hogwarts. I'd hate it, personally." He paused to take in Al's slight frown, then said, "It must be hard...always having to live up to everyone's expectations, having to follow in your dad's footsteps. They'll probably expect you to be able to fight off Dark wizards single-handedly from the moment you set foot in Hogwarts, too."

Al had the sense he was missing something. Something very funny was going on here.

"Just because my dad's an Auror doesn't mean everyone's expecting me to be one," he said slowly.

Malfoy looked slightly confused.

"What's being an Auror got to do with-" Then, it seemed, comprehension dawned. "You mean- you don't- you don't know?" Rose looked between the two boys with an expression of utter terror on her face.

"Know what?" asked Al, nonplussed.

"NO! Malfoy- Scorpius- please, shut up, I'll do anything!" Rose pleaded. However, Malfoy almost seemed to be enjoying himself.

"So you're telling me that your dad never told you why he has that scar?" Al said nothing, but his heart was racing. Rose, meanwhile, seemed to be beside herself.

"PLEASE- don't- or- or I'll-"

"What're you gonna do, strangle me with your plait?" Malfoy said coldly. Rose gave a little squeak, clutched at her long brown braid and fell silent.

Malfoy stepped further into the compartment, closing the door behind him. "Forty-five years ago," he began, "the most famous, most evil Dark wizard in history rose to power. He terrorised everyone. Some people are still reluctant to say his name."

"What was his name?" asked Al curiously.

"Lord Voldemort," replied Malfoy carelessly. "But people called him You-Know-Who, He Who Must Not Be Named, or the Dark Lord."

"What's this got to do with my dad?"

"I'm getting to that," answered Malfoy. "So anyway, Voldemort started looking for followers in the early 70s. He got them, too. They called themselves Death Eaters, and went around killing and torturing people.

"It wasn't long before war broke out. The First War. The Death Eaters fought against the Order of the Phoenix. It was really terrible- people say it was the darkest time.

"But then Voldemort acquired a new target. Lily and James Potter," and Al felt himself freeze, "had to go into hiding. But then, in 1981, he found them." Malfoy paused for effect. Al felt the blood pounding in his ears.

"Go on!" he urged breathlessly. Malfoy took a deep breath and continued his tale.

"He broke into their house and murdered them both. Then he turned on their son, Harry. Your dad," he added, as if Al knew of ten Harry Potters. "Harry Potter was only one year old at the time, but when Voldemort tried to kill him, it didn't work."

"Why not?" gasped Al.

"Like I know," said Malfoy irritably. "Your dad escaped with a scar, when grown wizards died under the same curse."

Al's breath was coming in short gasps now.

"What- what did Voldemort do?" he stammered. Malfoy gave a hollow laugh.

"Voldemort was destroyed. His power gone, his body gone- well, he was a bit like a ghost. He disappeared, and Harry Potter was world-famous from then on.

"But that's not all," added Malfoy, seeing that Al was about to interrupt. He leaned closer impressively. "When your dad was 14, Voldemort came back."

"Back?" echoed Al numbly.

"Back," said Malfoy. "And it was just like before. Murder and kidnap and torture and...and hell, really. But when your dad was 17, he finished Voldemort. Got rid of him. Forever." The word seemed to reverberate around the compartment.

"And then, well, everything was fine. People who'd been cursed came back to themselves, the Death Eaters who hadn't managed to escape were imprisoned, the world was put to rights." Al could feel his hands shaking.

"How...how did you know all this?" he asked, gazing up at Malfoy. The blond boy let out a great "ha!" of laughter, and Al's owl ruffled its wings indignantly.

"How did I know? How did I know?" repeated Malfoy, striding up and down the compartment. He threw up his hands. "Everyone knows! The entire wizarding world knows! It's in books, it's becoming a legend, people still talk about it! Your dad and his friends are evn on Chocolate Frog cards!" He turned. "And you're telling me you never knew?" Al shook his head.

Suddenly Rose stood up: Al had almost forgotten she was there. There was a fierce look in her eyes and her cheeks were pink. Malfoy unconsciously stepped backwards.

"Get. Out." She sounded furious. Malfoy raised his eyebrows archly, in an attempt to regain his usual cool demeanour. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he dropped all pretence of composure, yanked the door open and dashed out. Rose slammed the door with so much force that a hairline crack snaked its way across the glass. She ignored it and turned back to Al.

"Oh, Al..." she murmured. Al, who had half-risen from his seat, fell back into it, his hands over his face. His mouth was dry and his head was spinning. Everything seemed to make sense. His father being recognised everywhere...they could not enter a wizarding shop without waiting for Harry to finish shaking hands with everyone who was in there...why, even now Al recalled pushing open the dusty door of the Leaky Cauldron a few weeks ago, and his father grinning embarrassedly as the entire pub stood as one and raised their glasses to him...and he, Al, had been stupid enough, naive enough, to believe that it was because his father was a well-known Auror. This explained everything.

"Al?" Rose tried again timidly, and he lifted his head to look at her. Tears were brimming out of her ice-blue eyes. He tried to find his voice.

"Did- did you know?"

"Yes," she whispered miserably. "Mum and Dad told me, but- but that made me swear not to tell you until- until your dad thought- until he wanted to tell you." She visibly seemed to shrink under Al's glare.

"So it's like that, is it?" said Al, his voice cracking. The initial shock and disbelief was ebbing away now, being replaced with anger. The same question was ricocheting round and round his brain. Why...why...why...why...why...why?

Why had Harry never told him? Why had Harry kept this secret from him his entire life? Why had he permitted Al's best friend to know, when his- Harry's- own children-

Al turned. Rose was still crying, hunched up on her seat. "Does James know?" he asked roughly.

"What?" Rose hiccoughed, as if Al was speaking Mermish. Al put his hands on the seat each side of Rose and looked into her face.

"Does my brother know what I just found out?" Rose looked terrified, then nodded as though Al was about to rip her head off.

Al stood up and strode over to the window. He gazed out at the fields of cows and sheep, but not really sseeing them. All these different feelings bubbled up inside him, until he thought he would burst. Did his father not trust him? What made James so much more special, more worthy than him? Did Harry think that (and this notion made him feel so angry, so resentful, so hard-done-by that he wanted to smash the window) he, Al, wasn't intelligent enough to comprehend this information?

He turned quickly away from the window, stomped over and banged open the door, ignored Rose's tear-streaked, downcast face, and stormed down the corridor and out of sight.


	2. The Salem Witches' Institute

**Chapter Two: The Salem Witches' Institute**

James grinned contentedly, stretched, and looked around at his three best friends. There was Fred: ungainly, freckled and red-haired, absent-mindedly beating out a rhythm on the table with his wand. Opposite Fred was Carrie: her dishwater-blonde hair pulled into asymmetrical bunches, a shocking-pink bubble protruding from her mouth. Next to Carrie was RJ: tall, black, his beaded dreadlocks swinging wildly as he bobbed his head to the jazzy music playing from the chrome radio on the table.

It was the first time they had been together in over a month. They had had literally no chance to meet in the holidays- RJ had been in Jamaica for the whole time; Fred had gone to and fro from London to Hogsmeade with his father "on business", as he was fond of saying; and Carrie lived in Liverpool, and had spent most of her summer visiting countless relatives. James was not yet mature enough to tell them this, but privately admitted that he had missed his friends, and that things weren't quite the same without them. True, he had really enjoyed his summer, but it was good to be back.

Fred pulled a large, flat box from his shirt pocket.

"Exploding Snap Deluxe," he said proudly. "Anyone want a game?"

"I'm good, man," said RJ.

"No thanks," said Carrie through her mouthful of Drooble's Best. James took one look at the box and shook his head.

"Aw, why not?" said Fred, clearly disappointed.

"Brings back too many unpleasant memories," said James with a shudder. "Played it a million times in the car with Al," he added in response to their enquiring looks. "I can practically my my sister in the background now, whining for sweets," and they all laughed at James's exaggerated dreamy look. Fred shrugged and began construction on his card castle.

"So James," Carrie said, "anything interesting happen to you in summer?"

"Well," he replied, reaching down into his bag, "Dad decided to treat me and Al." And her pulled out a shiny black mobile phone. Fred raised his eyebrows, impressed, and Carrie asked interestedly,

"Ooh, what is it?" James was surprised.

"Haven't you ever seen a mobile before?"

"What? No- no, I haven't."

"Well," explained James, holding the phone out to Carrie, who took it eagerly, "it's a bit like a Muggle telephone, only smaller, and it can do loads, too." Carrie's eyes widened as James showed her all the functions of his phone (music, camera etc.). "So anyway, you could persuade your parents to let you have one," said James, stowing his mobile safely away. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind- you can get really cheap ones anywhere."

Carrie shook her head.

"It'd be different if I was still living with my dad. But now my mum and my granny say they want me to live with them."

"Do you want to live with them?"

"Well," she replied haltingly, "no, not really. My dad's not happy about them turning up out of the blue. He says he'll keep me no matter what they say or do."

"Good on him," said James, taking a sip from his water bottle.

"Yes, but still," Carrie looked unconvinced. "My mum and granny...well, you haven't seen them when they're angry."

"I haven't seen them at all, actually," replied James lightly. "Oh, come on, they'll-"

At that precise moment, two things happened. The compartment door flew open with a BANG, causing Fred's card castle to explode with an even bigger **BANG!** The four of them dived under the table or cover as a blast of thick black smoke engulfed the compartment.

Coughing and spluttering, James clambered back up, waving the last of the smoke away. In the doorway stood a pretty blonde girl wearing a stars-and-stripes bandanna, hands on either side of her face in apparent horror.

"Omigod! I'm sooo sorry!" she squealed. She had a thick Californian accent.

"You should be," muttered Carrie, looking down at her blackened T-shirt and brushing soot out of her hair. The girl didn't seem to hear.

"Omigod! Was that your card castle?" she asked Fred, blinking her big blue eyes at him innocently.

"Oh- yeah- it is. Was.But it doesn't matter because it wasn't that good and in fact I made it in about twenty seconds and I can make a better one in no time at all," gabbled Fred, waving a hand airily and narrowly missing James's glasses.

"Wow! That's like, sooo cool. Omigod!" said the girl for the third time. "I totally haven't introduced myself! That's just like, sooo not cool. I'm Zoe Pritchard, and I'm an exchange student from the Salem Witches' Institue in America."

"I love america," replied Fred, and Zoe beamed. Carrie snorted.

"America? You? Fred, the furthest you've been from this country is the Isle of Wight." Fred pretended not to hear her.

"Zoe, I'm Fred Weasley, and these are my best friends: RJ- actually, his name is River Jordan-"

"Dude, don't call me that," muttered RJ.

"-this is Carrie Hounslow-"

"Yo," said Carrie dispassionately.

"-and this is James Potter." At Fred's words, Zoe let out a shriek of delight.

"Potter! You're James Potter?"

"I was the last time I checked," said James. Zoe seemed to miss the sarcasm.

"Omigod, wow! I mean, my sister, she's in her Sophomore year at college, and she's, like, nuts about your dad. In her apartment, right, she's got loads of posters of him all over her walls!"

"Er- right," replied James, partly because he couldn't think of anything else to say; and partly because Fred was looking mutinous at the fact that Zoe's interest had shifted from him to James.

Zoe stepped closer to James and gave a little giggle, fluttering her eyelashes at him. She was so close to him that all he could smell was raspberries. Her perfume, he supposed, trying not to look as shocked as he felt. Over Zoe's shoulder, he caught sight of Carrie smirking and Fred scowling. "I- er-" he began, feeling the heat rise up his face.

"Could I have your autograph?"

"WHAT?" James's jaw dropped.

"**WHAT?**" echoed Fred and Carrie simultaneously.

"You know, for my sister," said Zoe, as though that was obvious.

"I- um- okay-"

Zoe slipped the bandanne from her hair, tossing it to James, who caught it nervously. It also smelled of raspberries.

"Here," she said, handing him a black marker pen. James hastily scribbled his signature on the bandanna and then pushed both it and the pen back to her as thought they were poisonous.

"Thanks, Jamie," she said sweetly, and turned around to examine her reflection in the compartment door.

For what was possibly the first time in his life, James was at a complete loss for words. He tried the age-old strategy of letting his mouth have control instead of his brain, but that didn't work either. One word was freewheeling around on the inside of his skull- Jamie?

Carrie seemed to be in fits of silent laughter; RJ mouthed "JAMIE?" at him disgustedly; but Fred seemed to be ready to snap his neck in two. James was saved the necessity of clearing the rapidly thickening tension by Zoe, who spun round and said, "Oh, guys, do any of you know where the food cart is? I think I missed it."

"Food cart?" repeated Carrie distastefully.

"Oh, you know, whatever you Brits call it," waving a hand dismissively, then in a ridiculously exaggerated stuffy English accent, "_trolley_." She giggled, but no one else seemed to find it very funny. Only Fred laughed.

Zoe regarded him more and more coolly now that she had found out who James was. Then she turned her attention to James himself. "So, uh, because I'm new and all, I don't really know my way around the train very well," she spoke directly to James, "would you, uh, you know..." she trailed off hopefully.

"I will!" exclaimed Fred, hurrying forwards and sending James sprawling in his seat. "I'll take you, I know the Hogwarts Express like the back of my hand!"

"Oh," said Zoe, with a disappointed glance at James, "oh, well, I was kinda hoping..." But when James did not leap up immediately and protest against Fred's desire to act as tour guide, she shrugged and followed Fred out of the compartment.

No sooner than Fred and Zoe were out of sight, RJ gathered up his stuff saying,

"Right, I'm gonna take off now."

"What? No!" said James. "don't disappear on me as well!"

RJ grinned and replied, "I gotta go find Jelly. I promised to meet her about now." James didn't bother asking what time they should meet up. Jelley was RJ's twin sister and the two of them were practically inseperable. Instead, he waved a gloomy goodbye to RJ and slumped back in his seat. What fun was there to be had with both Fred and RJ gone?

Carrie seemed to be preoccupied for a very different reason.

"For my sister..._for my sister_...what rubbish," she repeated scathingly. "I'd be surprised if she even has a sister."

"Carrie-"

"No, seriously, that was a complete load of bull-"

"Carrie!"

"I haven't heard so much dung since that Slytherin hexed Larry Perkins so he started talking through his-"

"CARRIE!"

Carrie stopped mid-rant and glowered at James, who resisted the urge to shrink back in his seat.

"You're not telling me you liked her?"

"No, no, of course not!" he hastily assured her. "But you need to calm down a bit." James instantly knew he'd said the wrong thing.

"Calm down? Calm down! Why should I? I mean, you saw what she was like! She only went with Fred because he's your friend, you could tell she was hoping you'd take her! And poor Fred- I reckon he's got a bit of a crush on her now!"

_You think? No, I shouldn't say what just came into my head...OK, I might be dead in ten seconds but who cares? _James thought.

"Looks like someone's a bit jealous, Carrie!" She flushed.

"No- that's rubbish! I'm not! Of course I'm not jealous! Fred's my mate- I'm just looking out for him!"

"Hmmm," said James, unconvinced.

"I'm not jealous, James. I just think she's bad news, that's all."

"Well," said James bracingly, "I know something that might cheer you up."

"What?" said Carrie sullenly. James rather thought she looked like a sulky child.

"Here, sit down," and he pulled out his mobile again, "watch this." He tapped the phone with his wand. "_Geminio_!" And one phone became two. Carrie's face shone with delight as she took her phone as if it were made of glass.

"Will it work in Hogwarts, though?"

"Yep," said James proudly. "My auntie, she's amazing at magic. She put this in the back." He opened the casing and showed her a purple stone that pulsed gently. "It's like a lodestone. It'll work anywhere."

"Thanks so much," smiled Carrie, laying her hand on his on the table, just for a second. James felt slightly uncomfortable. _Why did she do that?_ "Are you OK?" she asked, looking up concernedly.

"Yeah- fine-" _Now she's acting like nothing happened. What's wrong with these girls?_

"Aww, don't worry. Jamie."

"Shut up!"

"Sorry. Jamie."

"I thought I told you to shut up!"

"What about Mr Jamie? That better?"

"Oh, shut up!"


	3. Conversations with the Sorting Hat

Night was falling over the crowded Hogsmeade station. The chilly twilight air was rent by the sounds of the squeak of the train as the students disembarked, and of the cries of welcome as they greeted each other. The stars winked down at the scene below, and the silver moon peeped shyly out from behind an indigo cloud.

Al was shivering in the cold. Even with his black cloak and hat on, he wished desperately for the chance to sit beside a friendly, crackling fire like the one in the living room at home. Rose stood beside him. Her eyes flickered up to him every now and again, but he pretended not to notice. He had not said a word to her, or even acknowledged her existence in any way at all. He was determined never to speak to her, his brother, father or mother until he found out why they had not trusted him.

Al's thoughts were interrupted by a great booming voice that carried high over the heads of the students milling about or jumping into carriages.

"Roun' up! Roun' up! Firs'-years over 'ere! All firs'-years ter me!" Al looked up to see a giant of a man approaching them, swinging an enormous lantern. The giant had a long, shaggy mane of grey hair and a beard to match. He spotted Al and gave hima thumbs-up. Al wondered how the giant knew who he was- did her really look that much like his father? _My lying, secretive, sneaky father,_ he thought furiously. He watched the giant raise the lantern higher and wave over some more first-years, and realised that he knew who the giant was- why, it was Hagrid! The very same, who, a million years ago, his father had- _Don't think about him_, thought Al. _Don't think about him. He's already ruined your first day up till now, don't let him ruin the rest!_

When all the first-years were crowded around Hagrid, they set off. Down a steep, slippery, narrow path, and their only source of light apart from the distant glow of Hagrid's lantern was the pitiful sliver of moonlight that cleaved the mass of shadows. "Righ', Hogwarts is jus' round here, a little after this bend." The path cleared and Al couldn't hold back a gasp.

A huge castle sat majestically on top of a low, flat-topped mountain. It was encircled by a vast stretch of lawn that was black and shadowy in the moonlight. Before the front lawn was a great glassy lake- it resembled a sea of pitch-black oil in the darkness, save for the luminous reflections of the glittering castle windows and of the austere moon. The lake's edge lapped gently onto the bank where Hagrid and the students stood.

"Alrigh', you lot, get yerselves in! No more'n four in one boat!" called Hagrid, who took up a whole boat by himself. Al looked at the little boat doubtfully. He wasn't sure whether this was a good idea. What if he misjudged it and slipped? Should he gather up his robes and cloak and risk toppling over, or use his hands to steady himself but get his clothes wet? As his foot hovered over the boat, an image of his brother's face swam into his mind,unbidden, unwanted. There was a taunting, mocking sneer on James's face as he said:

_"Al, there's no __way__ you're going to be in Gryffindor! Gryffindor's for the brave ones, the daring, courageous people! I bet you've never taken a single risk in your life, have you? You're just a coward- you can't even get into a boat, for crying out loud! You don't deserve Gryffindor, Al. You could never be one of us."_

Al clenched his fists in determination, and stepped unhesitatingly into the boat._ I __am__ a Gryffindor,_ he thought fiercely. _I __have__ got what it takes. I __can__ do this- I'll show you! All of you!_ The boat wobbled precariously, but did not spontaneously combust, as Al had half-expected. He was followed into his boat by Rose, a large boy with a fringe that flopped right over his eyes, and a swarthy-looking boy with a very high forehead.

"OK? Alrigh'- off we go!" boomed Hagrid, and the little fleet of boats moved off all by themselves. Al gazed across the colossal expanse of water, and his eyes lingered upon the ice-white moon, which seemed even larger and closer and more mysterious now, and at its watery reflection below. This wasn't right, none of it. He had imagined this day for months,maybe even years. _I should be enjoying this_, he reflected miserably. _The lake really is beautiful. Why did this have to happen? But if it hadn't,_ he mused, _what would have happened otherwise?_ He couldn't, now, imagine not knowing. That was unthinkable. But then what? _He could have told me. That's all.It'd have been much easier._ Al couldn't help but think that perhaps his time at Hogwarts wasn't supposed to be easy. It was already going to be bad enough, what with James, and his popularity and all that, but a famous father too? _Jeez, Al, it's a wonder you aren't already on the train back-_

"OW!" Al had been so caught up in his thoughts that he wasn't listening when Hagrid had told them all to duck. Consequently, he had bashed his head on the hard stone of the tunnel that now enveloped them. Rubbing his head angrily, he thought he heard the boy with the high forehead snigger.

A few minutes later, they all clambered out of the boats and made their way along the tunnel until they came to Hogwarts itself. Hagrid did a quick head count, then raised his massive fist and knocked, three times, on the oak front door.

For a moment or two, there was silence. The shadow of a frown crossed Hagrid's face, and he knocked again, louder this time. The first-years held their breath. Suddenly, there was a tremendous CRACK! There seemed to be quite a cacophony going on inside. There was a loud banging noise, then a slightly muffled voice on the other side said sheepishly,

"Er- Hagrid, you wouldn't happen to have your- er- spare key on you, would you?" Hagrid sighed exasperatedly.

"Course I don'! I lent yeh the key las' week an' I never got it back! C'mon, I got kids out here!"

"Yes- I know-" The voice sounded extremely panicky. The loud banging started up again.

"I don' have time fer this!" yelled Hagrid irritably. "I don' care what yeh do, jus' open up!" There was a pause. The voice seemed to be doing some serious thinking.

"Right," it said. "Move out of the way. Quick." Hagrid flung a gigantic arm out in front of the first-years, and not a moment too soon.

BANG! There was an explosion of thick grey smoke and the front door flew off its hinges and landed deveral feet away on the grass, with such force that it splintered into a million pieces. Alsquinted through the dust to see a tall blond man covered in soot staring, horror-struck, at the wreckage he had just created. his gaze lit on the gaggle of students, and he hastily ushered them inside.

"Oh dear...drat these doors...oh dear..." The man stared around wildly for some form of salvation, but none came. Even Hagrid had disappeared. The man directed his wand at the first-years, and the layer of soot, dust and general dirt from the explosion vanished. "Right, er, hi. I'm Professor Goldstein, Deputy Head, and, er, Transfiguration teacher. I'm normally quite good at my job, honest. What you witnessed there was just an...unfortunate incident, that's all. Really." Professor Goldstein waved a hand in a vague attempt to be nonchalant. Al felt the corners of his mouth twitch. Then all of them heard the sound of a Chinese gong from somewhere beyond the Entrance Hall. Professor Goldstein swore loudly, and several first-years tittered.

"You didn't hear that, OK?" said Professor Goldstein. "Get in a line, you lot. Now! Right, people, listen up. No time to explain about the houses and that lot, so you're just gonna have to listen carefully to the Sorting Hat. Everyone ready? Quick march, follow me, let's go!" Professor Goldstein set off at a near-run and the students followed. Al, who had somehow contrived to end up near the front, kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead of him. Even as the doors burst open and he sensed thousands of eyes following him, he didn't even look up at the bewitched ceiling above.He felt as if any movement would make him throw up. They came to a halt in front of the teachers' table, facing the rest of the Great Hall. Professor Goldstein sprinted out of the Hall- presumably to fetch the Sorting Hat.Al swallowed uncomfortably. He really did feel sick now.

Back in came Professor Goldstein, carrying a stool that was falling apart, and a ragged old hat. He put the hat on the stool, and unrolled a long scroll of names. It took rather a long time.Al heard one of the teachers clear her throat loudly. Professor Goldstein stepped back and the hat began to sing.

_"Once, a long, long time ago_

_A millenium- or more_

_This noble school was founded_

_By magic's greatest four_

_These wizards were by far the best_

_The world has ever seen_

_And they were once united_

_By a risky, daring dream_

_To build the world's best magic school_

_And fill their days with learning_

_They did all this, and even more_

_While the century was turning_

_Well, in the students came_

_The numbers shot so high_

_The founders decided, in the end_

_Separation was well nigh_

_Gryffindor, he took all those_

_Who were willing, brave and bold_

_Slytherin's close quarters had_

_Purest ancestry of old_

_Fair Ravenclaw taught only those_

_With a quick and eager mind_

_While Hufflepuff told her students,_

_'Be hard-working and be kind.'_

_But how to sort all those_

_When the founders four were gone?_

_Off Gryffindor's head was I taken_

_And so began my song!"_

The Hall was filled with tumultuous applause from all five tables. Al couldn't move his hands, or even his mouth. There seemed to be one hell of a butterfly going beserk in his stomach.

Professor Goldstein shook out the scroll again, with a wary glance at the High Table.

"OK, dudies," he said to the line of first-years, "I call your name. You put on the hat. You get Sorted. We clear? Good." He grinned encouragingly at them, but Al still felt very sick. "Right...let's get on with it. Adachi, Akiko!" A tiny Japanese girl tottered up to the stool, and put on the hat. There was a pause-

"RAVENCLAW!" Cheers and applause from the Ravenclaw table as Akiko removed the hat and teetered away.

"Ahmed, Rashid!"

"RAVENCLAW"

"Allan, Jenna!"

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Gryffindor table erupted with applause. Al saw James wolf-whistle Jenna, and a faint pink blush stained her cheeks. Al suppressed an urge to roll his eyes. It had to be James, didn't it?

"Andrews, Jade!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The list went on. And on. There probably weren't that many names, but Al felt as though he had been standing there for hours.

"Caballus, Cagnus!" The boy with the high forehead tried on the hat, which yelled,

"SLYTHERIN!" As the line wore on, Al began to wonder what would happen if he was in Slytherin? What if he refused to go and sit down at the Slytherin table? What would they do then?

"Hallums, Henry!" A round-faced boy with blond hair and glasses stepped over to the stool. Al privately thought he resembled a teddy bear. The hat took a long time to decide with Steven, but in the end:

"GRYFFINDOR!" _That's where I'm going,_ thought Al, and he felt a warm glow inside him at the notion.

"Hooper, Lina!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Jaynus, Billy!" The large boy with the floppy fringe shuffled forwards.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Jones, Rhys!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The line was definitely getting smaller now, Al realised, as Anthony Mahal became a Slytherin. His intial nerves were fading now, only to be reinstated when it struck him that there wasn't long left.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

Malfoy strode towards the stool and put on the hat. A few moments passed in complete silence.

"RAVENCLAW!"

For a second, Malfoy didn't move. His face showed nothing but blank shock. Then Malfoy slowly removed the Hat and made his way over to the Ravenclaw table. More people were Sorted..."Many, Kate!" A pair of twins, "Mayfields" and "Mayfields", both Hufflepuffs. A good-looking boy with spiky blond hair, "Nevada, Louis!" became a Gryffindor.

The minutes seemed to melt away now. There seemed to be no time at all between "O'Brian, Daniel!" and "Penfold, Olina!", and then it was:

"Potter, Albus!"

In years to come, Al would never be able to explain how, exactly, he'd managed to walk out of the line and over to the stool with the whole Hall watching him. The last thing he saw before the hat fell over his eyes was the entire Gryffindor table leaning forward expectantly. Then blackness.

"Ah," said a voice, presumably the hat's. "Potter. I have fun- oh yes, a lot of fun with your lot. Your grandfather James, for example, possessed many, many qualities that Rowena Ravenclaw herself admired. But Gryffindor outweighed in the end. Then your father- what an interesting mind that was to Sort. He could have been in any of the four houses, you know. I did tell him that Slytherin would have led him to greatness, but he refused. Such a shame. Now, your brother, well, he was easy, Straight on-and-off case, he was. Gryffindor all the way through."

Al wondered how best to phrase his request. Politeness, he supposed, was the way to go.

_Um, Mr Hat- sir. Not to interrupt you, or anything, you know, because, not that the family history's not intruiging, but, er, I'd like to, sort of, get onto- me, now. If that's okay._

"Oh- alright," replied the hat, sounding slightly put out. "Right, let me see..."

_Excuse me,_ thought Al as politely and respectfully as he could, then realised how surreal it was to have to think politely.

"What now?"

_Er, sorry, but do you think that, you know- could you put me in Gryffindor, please?_

There was a pause.

"Put you in Gryffindor? Dare I ask why?"

_Well, James is there, and my dad was there, and so was his dad..._

"Yes?" prompted the hat.

_Oh, you know. It'll look really weird. If I'm not._

Only after he had thought this did Al realise how stupid it sounded.

"What if I were to say no?"

_No! Please put me in Gryffindor!_ thought Al desperately. _There's nowhere else I __can__ go! And I swear, if you put me in Gryffindor, I'll really work hard and live up to it! Honestly, just put me in Gryffindor, and I'll really prove myself!_

"Interesting," mused the hat. "_Prove myself_... Let me put it to you this way. I put you in Gryffindor, you will not achieve anything. You will spend the next seven years trailing after your brother, attempting to be something you're not. You've got a good mind, young man, and other things, such as patience, and determination, all of which make up that spark inside you. But that spark will be flattened and extinguished should I place you in Gryffindor. What's more important, your own talents and abilities, or you trying to be what everyone else wants you to be?"

The hat was right, realised Al. He had known all this in the back of his mind, even before the hat had started speaking. It would be hard, though, to throw away his dream, his ideal, of Gryffindor. Hard, but it was the right thing to do.

_OK,_ thought Al resolutely. _I'm ready to be Sorted._ He held his breath and waited.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Al nearly fell off the stool in shock. Shakily, he lifted off the hat, stood up (with great difficulty) and dropped the hat onto the stool. He avoided looking at the stunned Gryffindor table, but walked over and took his place at the table that cheered and whooped for him, the table that was to be his now. He smiled to himself. _Albus Potter_, he thought. _New Ravenclaw._


End file.
